Turnabout Reunion
by Miss Mysty
Summary: For the kink meme.  Edgeworth returns after eight years in Europe, but everything is different.  Well, maybe not everything.


**Another for the kink meme. They wanted Edgeworth to meet Phoenix again after being in Europe after Investigations until about a year after AJ. Had way too much fun with this, to be honest. Enjoy.**

Turnabout Reunion

There were a lot of things Edgeworth could've done when he finally returned to America. One of them could've been celebrating that, unlike all those years ago, he managed to get back to Los Angeles without being wrapped up in an international conspiracy. Another could've been check out his old office, which was kept neatly for him as long as he remained connected to the prosecutor's office. If he had done that, he would've had to listen to a guitar playing all day, though.

Edgeworth had left the country before the man known as Klavier Gavin moved into the then-vacant office of Jacques Portsman. He had spent a bit of time there, but every time he passed the open door of the office, he had to listen to Gavin crooning along with his guitar. He vaguely remembered that the man was part of a band but not much else. He didn't have any work since no one thought to assign him a case right when he got back, so he had an excuse to leave the office and reevaluate his bathroom habits.

Phoenix, Edgeworth decided, would probably laugh and say something about him getting passive-aggressive in his old age. Not that he had room to talk, since they were _the same age_.

Edgeworth shook his head as he buttoned-up his overcoat against the cool night air. He found himself thinking about Phoenix Wright more and more when he finally decided to go back to America, even though the blue-suited attorney had dropped off the face of the earth. He hadn't heard _anything_ about him, good or bad, and Edgeworth wasn't sure whether he should be worried.

Then again, this was the man that had survived a drop into a freezing, rocky river with just a few bumps and bruises. If anyone could be described as stupidly lucky, it was him.

He didn't want to go back home, though. It seemed wrong, after his habit of late nights had followed him around Europe. But Edgeworth had never really been part of the nightlife of LA, and he was determined to keep it that way.

Of course, a sign for a magician performing at a bar not far from the prosecutor's office gave him an excuse to at least go in. He didn't have to drink and he didn't have to stay. All he had to do was go in and watch this woman, Trucy Gramarye, until he could remember any of the places he used to go out to for tea when he was pulling an all-nighter on a case.

"Gramarye…" Edgeworth said to himself as he pushed open the door to the Wonder Bar. "I know I've heard that name before…"

The Wonder Bar was brightly lit and actually looked clean, much to Edgeworth's surprise. He had expected some seedy underbelly of LA. All the tables were full, because of the show most likely, and so Edgeworth took a place at the bar.

"What'll it be?" the bartender asked.

"Nothing, thank you," Edgeworth said in an absent-minded sort of way, staring at the still-empty stage.

He expected the bartender to protest and try to change his mind, but he was silent. Curious, Edgeworth turned to look at him.

"Edgey!" Larry said, dropping the beer mug he had been wiping out. Edgeworth flinched as it hit the floor, but there was no shattering sound. Larry looked like he was ready to jump over the long bar and hug his old friend, but he didn't. "I haven't seen you since the Steel Samurai show!"

A blush came over Edgeworth's face as he remembered it. "That debacle is best left forgotten, Larry," he said. Of course, it wasn't. Kay had greeted him at the airport and pulled out the signed picture of the Steel Samurai that he had thrown out after discovering it was Larry under the mask at the stage show. Kay Faraday was never one to miss an opportunity to humiliate him.

"Aw, you're no fun, Edgey," Larry said, but he was grinning. It seemed the years had at least let him take Edgeworth's snarkiness in stride. Someone called him down the bar for a drink, but he kept talking. "So what are you doing back, anyway?"

Edgeworth sighed and put a hand to his forehead. "To be absolutely truthful, it was about a month ago that I realized traveling around Europe made me sound like a hippie," he said. Larry stared at him. Had Edgeworth just made a joke at his own expense? "I needed more structure in my life, and I still had my place here. They welcomed me back with open arms. It was as if I had never left."

Larry was back, leaning against the bar in front of Edgeworth now that he had filled the customer's order. "Well maybe it was like _you_ were never gone, but it's been eight years, Edgey."

Edgeworth eyed Larry's bartender outfit. "Yes, clearly. This may be a supremely stupid question, but why are you now working at a bar?"

"It's an awesome story, actually!" Larry said, his eyes lighting up like they always used to when explaining his circumstances.

"I suppose it has to do with another girl."

"Guy, actually!" Larry grinned, and Edgeworth gave him a startled look. "I was talking to Nick a while ago, and you know how you lawyer guys have that bar examine thing."

Edgeworth just kind of sat on the hard stool, trying to connect the two things in his mind. When he finally did, he said, "Larry Butz, that is the most asinine train of logic I've ever heard. And I had to listen to Wright interrogate a _parrot_."

Larry slumped, and it looked like he was going to start crying. "You're so mean, Edgey!" he sniffled. "I've been here for years now! I mean okay, I only got the job because Nick worked his connections, but they haven't fired me so that has to be worth something!"

Edgeworth almost asked why Phoenix Wright had connections in a no-name bar he hadn't even known existed eight years previously, but the lights dimmed and a spotlight hit the stage. From behind the curtains blocking off part of it as backstage came a wooden puppet dressed in a blue cape and magician's top hat.

"Ladies and germs!" it said, its mouth moving stiffly. "It is my pleasure to announce the lovely, the talented, the downright awesome, the artist formerly known as Trucy Wright, Trucy Gramarye!"

Suddenly the whole stage was covered in smoke, and when it cleared, a young girl wearing the top hat formerly belonging to the puppet was there, waving as the crowd cheered and clapped.

Edgeworth was a bit startled. "How old is that girl, Larry? It can't be more than fifteen."

"Sixteen now, I think," he said. "She's been working this bar for even longer than I've been here! Needs to make money somehow."

"Yes, and I'm hoping even you would be responsible enough to not serve her drinks," Edgeworth said, turning to face the bar as Trucy started off the show with a lot of flashy tricks. She was quite clearly all about presentation.

"Aw come one, what do you take me for?" Larry said as someone else sat down at the bar.

"A complete and utter moron, Larry," Edgeworth said after glancing at the new person. "A complete and utter moron."

Larry didn't even bother asking the guy if he wanted a drink, just slunk over to the shelf and started rearranging the various bottles and sulking. Edgeworth glanced at the newcomer again, making a note of the loudly-red vest suit and devil horn hairdo. He had seen more than his share of this kind of thing working as an attorney over the years, but he felt like it would be rude to make such assumptions. Surely law wasn't the only profession full of… quirky people.

"…yes?" the man asked, and Edgeworth realized that he had been staring.

"My apologies, you just… reminded me of someone I know," he said.

The man looked uncomfortable, but Edgeworth didn't seem to recognize what was wrong. But then the man held out a hand. "Uh, Apollo Justice, attorney at law." He glanced at Edgeworth's own getup, which hadn't changed over the years. Two men in bright-red and some shade of pink sitting together at a bar would've stood out if everyone wasn't too busy watching Trucy. Who, Edgeworth noticed after he shook Apollo's hand, was… pulling things out of a pair of panties.

"Miles Edgeworth, prosecuting attorney," he said, reaching into his breast pocket and holding out a business card. Apollo jumped in surprise but did the same, and they exchanged.

"Seriously?" Apollo asked, and his eyes lit up. "I read all about you in law school, but everyone said you went back to Europe for good."

Edgeworth nodded in a noncommittal way as he stared at Apollo's own card. Where his law firm should've been listed, it said, "Wright Anything Agency." Was this the Wright he was thinking it was?

"So what brings you here, Mr. Edgeworth?" Apollo continued. He was certainly more enthusiastic now.

"Just a bout of insomnia," he said, going back to watching Trucy on stage. "And you?"

Trucy was still pulling things out of her panties, and Apollo cringed. "Trucy is my boss' daughter. He's usually working right now so I'm kind of a stand-in at her shows."

If Edgeworth were any less composed, he probably would've demanded of Apollo who his boss was. Since when had Phoenix Wright had a daughter, especially a sixteen-year-old one? That would've meant she was around back then, wouldn't it?

"Her last name is… Gramarye?" he said instead.

"Stage name," Apollo said. "Her grandfather was founder of the Gramarye troupe years ago."

Edgeworth nodded, finally remembering. He had seen a poster for them at the arena during the kidnapping case at Gatewater Land.

Larry was back, having made a miraculous recovery from the blow to the ego that Edgeworth had delivered not moments before. He dropped a fruity-looking drink in front of Edgeworth.

"Larry, I already said I don't need a drink," he said, trying to push it away from him.

"On the house," Larry said. "Come on Edgey, after all you and Nick have done for me over the years, a drink is the least I can do."

Edgeworth eyed it suspiciously, but eventually he picked it up. If Larry had been there for a few years now, he couldn't have been too bad at making drinks. Perhaps he had finally found his calling, Edgeworth thought.

Before he got to test it, though, Trucy started calling out into the audience for assistance. She still had her magical panties out and was now, apparently, offering to let people pull things out of them themselves. There was an energetic-looking man in the front row screaming and waving his arms, but Trucy pointedly ignored him. Her eyes drifted over to the bar, before finally landing on Edgeworth.

"You, sir! In the pink suit!" she said.

Everyone turned to look at Edgeworth, and all he could offer up was a feeble, "It's magenta." He thought about telling her to pick someone else, but Larry was cheering for him now, and Trucy was as well. Finally, he sighed and got up.

"What exactly is it that I do?" Edgeworth asked once he was up there with her.

Trucy grinned and held out the panties, which just made Edgeworth more uncomfortable. "Just reach in and pull something out! It's easy as pie."

The entire crowd cheered for him.

"Can we get your name?" Trucy asked as Edgeworth inched his hand towards the blue and pink polka-dotted fabric.

"Miles Edgeworth," he said. He blinked when he got a hold of something, and he had to keep pulling and pulling until a European-style sword emerged. He blinked and stared into the panties, but they were just normal-looking. Or, as normal-looking as Edgeworth imagined a girl's panties were supposed to look.

Trucy took the sword from a dumbfounded Edgeworth. "Let's hear some applause for my lovely assistant!" she said, and the audience broke into applause. It didn't look like Trucy was going to put him through anything else, so Edgeworth headed back to the bar.

Someone had taken Edgeworth's seat next to Apollo while he was up on stage, and he almost headed for the door. Surely staying there wasn't worth it anymore.

"Edgey, get back here!" Larry called.

Edgeworth flinched and turned around. Apollo was looking back, and so was the man in his previous seat. He was scruffy-looking, unshaven and wearing sweat pants and a hoodie that looked worse-for-wear. A blue hat covered his hair. He kind of smiled when he saw Edgeworth. Reluctantly, Edgeworth sat down on the man's other side.

"I was just telling Apollo here about the time I played the Steel Samurai," Larry said, moving the drink he had made towards his friend again. Apollo looked like he was more interested in Trucy's show, though, so the story only fell on the ears of the unfamiliar man. "Remember that, Edgey? How me and Ms. Oldbag helped you catch that creepy Alba guy?"

Edgeworth's hand gripped the martini glass tightly. "How in the world could I forget, Larry?" he said. "Kay still has the… autograph."

"Aw come on, I was an authentic Steel Samurai!" Larry protested as he dropped a glass of water in front of the man. "You could sell that thing and make a fortune at the least."

"Larry, no one wants your outdated signature. Besides, I've seen your handwriting, it's horrible." The man between Edgeworth and Apollo said. Edgeworth stopped where he was, and stared at the man, who just tugged the hat over his eyes and stared down at the bar.

"Aw, Nick, you've gotten just as mean as Edgey," Larry said. "What would poor Trucy say?"

Phoenix smiled and picked up his glass. "Daddy, stop picking on Uncle Larry! It's not his fault if he can't write!"

Larry pouted. "Back-handed defense is worse," he said.

"I've taught her well." Phoenix downed the water and glanced over to Edgeworth, who had just put his glass down. "What, you don't trust Larry's drinks? He's actually pretty good at it." When Edgeworth kept staring, though, Phoenix stood up. He reached his arms above his head and stretched. "Well anyway, I should probably get back to the Borsht Bowl Club before they notice I'm gone. Good seeing you again, Larry."

As Phoenix headed for the exit, Edgeworth looked over to Larry, who had gone back to wiping out beer glasses.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Edgeworth said, too shocked to remember formal speech.

"That was Nick, duh," Larry answered. When he noticed Edgeworth still looked baffled, he put down the glass and rag. "What, dude, did you really not hear? Nick went through a nasty trial eight years ago and ended up disbarred." He stared up at the ceiling. "Maybe about a month after the thing at the embassy. I thought you kept up with stuff like this."

"Clearly not enough," Edgeworth said.

Larry picked the glass back up. "Edgey, I'll give you advice. Because that's what bartenders do. I've given a lot over the years."

"Larry Butz, I cannot imagine that any advice you'd give me would be useful in the slightest."

"Edgeeeeeeey," Larry whined. Edgeworth sighed and nodded, letting him continue. "Don't disappear into Europe for eight years. Everything always goes to hell when you disappear."

"Are you implying that this is my fault?" he said.

"Well you could've stopped him, at least!" Larry said.

Edgeworth's heart sunk down into his stomach, and his stomach sank down into his feet. He nodded. "Perhaps," he said.

"That's not fair."

Everyone looked over to Apollo, who had actually been listening the entire time.

"It was Mr. Gavin's fault for that whole… mess."

"Klavier Gavin?" Edgeworth asked.

"His brother," Apollo corrected.

He looked like he wanted to say more, but Edgeworth stood up and was on his way. He had no idea where the Borsht Bowl Club was, but if he was lucky, he could pick a direction and still catch up. Edgeworth had severe doubts that Phoenix had bothered getting a driver's license in his absence.

Fortunately for him, Phoenix was still standing right outside the entrance, leaning against the wall and staring up at the sky. They were right in the middle of the city, though, and no stars were visible.

"Took you long enough, Edgeworth," he said, standing up straight.

"If Larry hadn't said your name, I wouldn't believe it was you, Wright," he said. "You're looking… well."

Phoenix smirked and tugged on his hat again. "Funny, most people call it hobo-ish."

Edgeworth had more tact than that, though the thought had come into his mind once or twice since spotting him. "Perhaps Larry's right. I was nowhere near in the loop while I was gone. You… have a daughter?"

"Yeah," Phoenix said. When he saw Edgeworth's face, though, he added, "Adopted her. My last client disappeared and left her behind. Couldn't bring myself to leave the poor kid on her own. The foster system is a nasty place, or so I'm told."

"And the man in there?"

"Who, Apollo? Helped clear my name. I could technically take the bar exam again, if I wanted."

"But you don't want to."

There was a long pause as Phoenix stared up at the sky. "Edgeworth, I overhauled our entire legal system so that I could prove Kristoph Gavin was a lying, conniving bastard. Of course I don't want to be a lawyer again. I'm sick of it."

Edgeworth's heart sank again. "Well, I suppose you wouldn't," he said. Then he realized he had left his coat in the bar. "I suppose I'll see you again, Wright."

"Yeah," he said. "Maybe I'll change my mind. It would be nice to face you in court again, Edgeworth." Then he patted Edgeworth on the shoulder and was off, his flip-flops slapping against the ground and his arms stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie.

Edgeworth nodded. "See you in court, Wright."


End file.
